


In Between

by DaniJayNel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Oneshot, specific request, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15198686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: Canon scenes with Historia and Ymir written out, as well as some things added. From the first Sasha scene, to the drinking scene.





	In Between

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so fuck canon right

Save for the soft orange glow of the fires scattered about for light, outside the barracks was completely dark. Historia tried not to focus on how afraid she felt, and instead forged on. Sasha was probably close by, hopefully finished with her laps. She spotted Sasha lumbering in the distance, then watched her collapse on the ground, panting and groaning. She swallowed and continued forward.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sasha disappeared from the ground and Historia cried out, tumbling backwards. The bread she’d been carrying was gone, now clutched between Sasha’s teeth. How on earth had she done that? Sasha was like a crazed animal, and Historia could do nothing but gap at her in shock.

“Bread?!” Sasha exclaimed.

Historia kept her hands pressed to her chest. “That’s all I could get for you,” she said. Sasha looked to her, eyes wide. “But you’ve really got to drink some water first.” She held up the water clasped in her hands. Sasha stared at her.

“Are you God?” Sasha exclaimed loudly, grabbing Historia’s shoulder. Her grip was warm but it made Historia want to squirm.

“Huh?”

“You are!”

“Wait—”

“God!” Sasha screamed.

“Oi, what the hell are you two doing?” a third voice interjected.

Historia’s entire body went cold. She straightened her spine, heart thundering. Shit, they’d been caught by someone. She knew that if someone found out, especially if that someone was Shadis, she would get into serious trouble. She wanted to help, not get herself punishment.

_Or do I?_ a voice in Historia’s head wondered.

The two of them stared at the girl that had approached them, but then Sasha turned away and scoffed the whole bun down before collapsing on Historia’s lap and passing out.

“Um, she ran this whole time…”

The girl, cheeks littered with freckles, dipped her head. Her eyes shone gold in the fire light, and Historia felt struck for a long moment. “So, you’re trying to do a good deed, huh?”

Historia was physically taken aback. How…? “Huh?”

“For Potato Girl’s sake?” she asked. “What did you stand to gain from helping her?” Historia could only stare at her dumbly. She knew that using more of her excuses wouldn’t work on this girl, because those eyes saw everything. Even Historia herself didn’t know the answers to her own motivations, not truly. “Whatever,” the girl sighed. “We might as well get her to bed.” The girl put one of Sasha’s arms around her shoulder and then stood, hoisting her up.

She felt confused. “So you want to help her too?” Historia asked.

The girl smirked “Sure. If I help her out now, she’ll owe me one. I can use that. I have great expectations for her stupidity.”

Historia furrowed her brows. How could this person be so comfortable saying stuff like that? Wasn’t that bad? To admit that she was only doing a good thing to get something in return? Historia didn’t voice any of this, and instead took Sasha’s other arm—despite being way too short to really properly help—and the two of them dragged Sasha into their barrack. The girls inside were chatting softy, but most had already gone to sleep. The fire was out, so it was pitch black inside. They dumped Sasha on her bunk and then the girl sighed, stretched her back.

“She was goddamn heavy,” she groaned.

Historia wrung her hands together, not sure what to do next. The girl was just standing there, stretching and groaning. “Um, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

“But still, thank you! You could have informed a superior, but you didn’t.”

The girl leaned forward, bringing their faces close. Historia’s heart leapt into her throat in anxiety. Her stomach felt tied up in knots. “I still might. So you owe me too, Krista.”

Historia’s fingers clenched tightly, until her hands went white. “H-how do you know my name?”

The girl snorted. “Please, the goddess of the 104th? Who doesn’t know your name?”

“Oh.” Right. Historia knew what they said about her, and she liked it, sort of. At least she knew all of her efforts were paying off. “Well, since you know my name, can you tell me yours?”

The girl stared at her for a long moment, studying her face. “Do I really?” she asked softly, cryptically. Panic filled Historia’s body. _Does she know that Krista is not my name? But how?_ “Ymir,” she eventually said. “My name is Ymir.”

“Ymir?”

“Just Ymir.”

Historia forced herself to smile and hoped that it looked more authentic than it felt. Ymir’s eyes narrowed slightly and Historia’s smile wavered. She held her hand out and Ymir stared at it. Eventually, she slid her palm against Historia’s.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ymir”

Ymir quirked a brow. “Sure thing.” She pulled her hand free and climbed onto the top bunk, disappeared into the night. Historia realized that she was the last one up, so she went over to her own bunk towards the back, and slipped underneath the covers.

XxX

She had the same nightmare that night, as she always did. She was just a child, just seeking love and acknowledgement, and then there was her mother. Her mother—cold, cruel, uncaring.

_You should never have been born._

_You were a mistake._

_You ruined my life._

_Just die already._

Then there was her father, and the knife was arcing, spilling crimson blood everywhere, and she looked into her dying mother’s eyes and saw contempt and hatred, and wanted, in that moment, to die too. When that knife turned to her and fingers roughly tugged her hair, making her cry out in pain, her father’s voice saved her.

_You will be Krista Lenz. Historia Reiss does not exist. If you wish to live, you will obey this new rule. Now be gone, child. Be gone from my sight._

Historia would start running then, shivering and drenched, and she would run until she could barely breathe, until she collapsed and gasped and cried into her soaked dress.

Historia woke up with a soft gasp. She was grateful that she didn’t wake up screaming anymore, but she still woke up feeling sick. She stumbled out of her bunk and rushed outside, managing to find a bush just in time as her empty stomach heaved and she vomited. Her fingers dug into the wood of the building, splinters slicing into her skin. She kept heaving, nothing coming out, until she calmed down and she slumped against the building. Her fingers were bleeding.

“I didn’t think Miss Pretty could even throw up.”

She straightened and quickly wiped her mouth. She felt horrible and ugly, but it was only Ymir standing behind her, brown eyes studying her with interest. Ymir’s eyes flicked to the bush, then the blood smears on the wood, then back to her face. She said nothing.

“Good morning, Ymir,” Historia said sweetly, forcing herself to smile. “Did you sleep well?”

Ymir’s eyes narrowed slightly and she crossed her arms over her chest. Historia was terrified that she would try to talk about this, to ask why she was throwing up in a bush, why her fingers were smeared with blood. Maybe Ymir saw through her cheerful smile, because she didn’t mention it.

“Like shit,” she grumbled. “These beds are awful. Might as well sleep on the floor. You should probably get dressed, everyone is up already.”

Historia realized that Ymir was in her uniform. She smiled brighter and nodded in thanks, then returned to the barrack to slip out of her nightie and into her uniform. In the beginning she had really struggled to get all the straps on, but by now it was second nature and she was finished getting dressed just as the others were. The girls were all chatting happily amongst themselves as they moved as a group to the mess hall for breakfast.

“Krista!”

Historia turned, smiling. It was Sasha. She looked sheepish but well rested. “Good morning Sasha, how are you feeling?”

“So much better. Thank you for, well, last night. I blacked out. How did you even get me to my bunk?”

Historia’s smile faltered, but Sasha didn’t notice. “I had help.” She wouldn’t tell her who. She wouldn’t do Ymir’s dirty deeds for her. Sasha started talking then, going on about something she and Connie had done the day before, why she’d been eating that potato the way she had. Apparently he had dared her. She told Historia about how she was going to get him back.

Historia only half listened. She nodded her head so that Sasha would think she was invested, but really she was searching for Ymir, who had disappeared. When they were seated with their food, Historia still couldn’t spot her.

“Who’re you looking for?” Sasha asked her innocently. “Maybe I can help!”

Historia smiled at her. “No one.”

Someone slid into the seat beside her, a hand brushing against her shoulder. Ymir swept her brown hair out of her face, brow quirked. “No one, huh?” she asked, smirking.

Historia’s startled but managed to mute her surprise. “Yeah,” she said, smiling innocently. “No one.”

Ymir hummed and broke her bread into pieces, dipping it into her mash and gravy. Sasha was eyeing her. “Eat my food and I’ll rip your tongue out,” Ymir warned her with a burning glare. Sasha sat back, hands lifted

“I won’t!”

“Good, Potato Girl.”

“That’s not my name! It’s Sasha.”

Ymir grinned, telling them that she did indeed know her name, just refused to use it. Historia didn’t engage in the conversation at all, just stared at Ymir’s angular face. Normally she felt nothing. The only times Historia did feel something it was annoyance or fear, but now… with Ymir beside her, there was a different feeling in her chest. At first she thought it was just regular anxiety, which she got all the time too, especially after a nightmare, but when Ymir’s brown eyes looked into her own, Historia realized that this feeling was… nice. She didn’t want it to end.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Sasha asked her, pouting.

Historia still felt sick. She wasn’t sure if she could eat anything, so she started pushing her tray forward. Ymir grabbed her wrist.

“Eat,” she ordered firmly. “You’ll thank me.”

Historia studied her face. There was no maliciousness there, like she always expected. Ymir’s face was open, inviting. Historia pulled her tray back. Sasha pretended to weep so Ymir threw a piece of bread at her, and then laughed in the most unattractive way when it stuck wetly to Sasha’s forehead.

Historia hesitantly nibbled on her bread and watched them. Sasha and Ymir were fooling around, being themselves. It lifted Historia’s spirits slightly. It also made her hate herself even more.

XxX

[That morning in training, Ymir is at her side the whole time, and Historia wonders why. After that they just naturally stick together and Historia doesn’t mind]

Training was always gruelling. Because their very lives relied on their skill and ability with their gear, they had no time to take things easy. Their instructors were harsh and intimidating, but Historia pasted on a polite smile and did her stretches and her reps and their intensely long run. She noticed early on when Ymir sidled up next to her, but didn’t mention it even as Ymir purposefully made sure she stayed at Historia’s side. It was a little unnerving and Historia couldn’t stop herself from wondering what exactly Ymir wanted from her.

After their intense training they went to the showers, and Ymir was right at her back. They hadn’t said a word to each other, and Historia didn’t really want to, but she had a role to play.

“Hey, Krista!” It was Mina and Hannah, and a group of other girls from their squad. “We’re going to play a game of truth at our bunk after showering, if you’d like to join?” Mina asked, smiling brightly. She noticed Ymir lingering close by. “Ymir can join too, if she wants!”

Historia glanced at Ymir, but she merely rolled her eyes and disappeared into the shower house. Historia told Mina that she’d love to, and that she wasn’t sure if Ymir would, since they weren’t friends, and then they all went in and undressed. Historia barely concentrated as she showered, allowing her mind to empty of all thoughts. These moments were nice for her, sometimes, to forget the nightmares that pressed at the backs of her eyelids.

Afterwards, showered and clean, the girls all gathered on and near Mina and Hannah’s bunk. They were all giggling and tittering like this was the most hilarious thing in the world, and Historia observed them all with confusion. She didn’t understand why they took so much enjoyment out of this, but she giggled along so that she didn’t look out of place. At the back of the group, Historia spotted Ymir staring at her, and her giggles immediately died down to nothing.

“I have an idea!” Mina announced, quieting the noise around them. “Since we all barely know her, let’s ask Ymir something first!”

The girls all look around at each other and at Ymir, giggling. “Yeah!” Hannah agreed. They all stared at Ymir in hope.

Ymir didn’t seem bothered that all eyes had fallen on her. She shrugged her shoulders, so Mina and Hannah dipped their heads together and discussed what to ask, and finally sat up straighter, grinning. Historia found herself leaning in, curious to see what they asked and what Ymir’s response would be.

“Is there any boy you like?” Mina finally asked. The girls all made noises of glee.

Strangely, Ymir’s eyes lifted and met Historia’s for a brief second before flicking away to nothing. “No,” she answered, monotone. “Boys are idiots and not my thing.”

“Aw, really?” Hannah whined. “No one at all? What about Eren?”

Historia watched Mikasa perk at the name, but Ymir merely shrugged again. “I don’t like boys,” she said simply. “Now ask someone else something.”

The girls were visibly disappointed that Ymir hadn’t had anything juicy to divulge. Historia studied her curiously, wondering what it felt like to be so brutally honest. Ymir looked like she didn’t care at all, like stating what she felt so openly meant nothing to her. In that moment, Historia envied her with a force that nearly stole her breath.

“Krista!” Hannah squealed. “Answer the same question!”

Like earlier, the girls all giggled, Historia included—though she wasn’t certain where the amusement was. “Um, sure,” she said, smiling sweetly. A boy that she liked? “I guess I like all the boys,” she answered. There was a slight moment of pause. Ymir was the first to break it, snorting so loud that eyes went to her, and then scoffing on an amused laugh. Everyone started to laugh as well. Historia tried to hide her confusion. Why were they laughing like that? Why had her answer been funny? “Seriously,” she added, inwardly cringing. “All the boys are nice. I couldn’t pick just one. Why do you need to pick one, anyway?”

Mina and Hannah shared a glance that Historia didn’t understand. “Of course,” they snickered. “The boys all fawn over you anyway. It makes sense.” More laughter ensued and Historia had the odd sense that she was the butt of a joke, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it, because they started asking more questions and Historia quickly faded into the background. After that she was asked a few more questions, normal ones that she could at least fake in a believable way, and through it all Ymir would openly stare at her, and Historia would steal glances when Ymir wasn’t looking. An instructor told them all to get into bed, so their night of fun was over too soon. While the girls all scattered and hurried to their bunks, Historia went over to Ymir, nervous. Ymir was just about to climb into bed when Historia stopped her.

“Ymir?”

Ymir paused, turned. “Hm?”

“Can I…? Um, I mean…”

Ymir’s gaze was piercing and raw. It made Historia uncomfortable. She wanted to turn around and just abort mission, and really was about to, but Ymir was nothing if not incredibly intuitive. “They meant romantically,” Ymir said suddenly through her anxious silence. “So you implied that you’re romantically interested in all of the boys.”

Historia’s brows furrowed. Her cheeks hurt from so much fake smiling, so she didn’t smile again. “Romantically?”

Ymir’s head tilted. “Yeah, like crushing on them. Or in love. Like you want to be intimate with them.”

Historia’s confusion only deepened. She felt panic building in her gut. What was Ymir talking about? She wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to admit that she was this ignorant, this naïve. Ymir’s expression changed, so she must have realized. Her attitude would change, then. Like everyone else, she would mock Historia, think she was weird and stupid. Historia felt tears building, but there was not a trace on her expression which she kept carefully cheerful and bright. Underneath she felt a mess of sticky emotions.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” Ymir asked her softly, eyes darting around to make certain no one else heard. Historia didn’t answer her, because she couldn’t. Ymir took that as the affirmation that it was. “Look, tomorrow after training, I can explain it to you, if you want.”

Historia swallowed. She looked away, to the wall then the floor, clasped her shaking fingers together. “Sleep well, Ymir,” she said softly, then turned and headed to her bunk. It wasn’t a yes, but she knew that the offer would still be there, because there was just something about Ymir…

XxX

For some reason, Historia was nervous all day. Ymir sat with them for breakfast again but she didn’t mention anything, and while they trained Ymir was always somewhere near. When it was time for them to take a break after training, Ymir caught her eye and then walked off the training grounds. Historia got the hint and followed her.

“Hey, Krista!” Sasha ran up to her, sweat sliding down the side of her face. Like Historia, she was drenched and exhausted. The sun was unbearable as it beat down on them, but all they could do was endure. “What’re you up to?”

Historia stopped walking and smiled. “Uh, I’m just heading somewhere.”

“Ooh, can I come with?”

“I, um…”

Ymir was still in their view, sitting now on a fallen tree, staring expectantly. Historia glanced from her to Sasha, apologetic. Sasha followed her gaze and her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, you’ve got some business with Ymir!” She wiggled her eyebrows, but Historia didn’t understand why. “I never realized you were friends with her. Ymir seems kind of… scary, you know? But I’ll leave you to it!”

Historia watched Sasha stride away to Connie. She turned and headed to Ymir. To her relief, Ymir didn’t smirk at her or make a joke, her expression was entirely serious. Historia sat down beside her—making sure to keep distance between them because Ymir made her nervous—and exhaled shakily.

“You good?” Ymir asked her.

Historia straightened. “Perfect.”

“I didn’t think you’d follow me.” Historia remained silent, so Ymir continued. “So, you really don’t understand the concept of romantic interest?”

Historia slipped her thumbs underneath the straps at her thighs and clenched her hands into fists. “No…” It came out soft and defeated, but Ymir didn’t even bat an eye. She released a long breath.

“Right, okay. So… it’s normal to feel attraction.”

“Attraction?”

Ymir looked at her, but there wasn’t any judgement in her eyes. “Like… you’re drawn to someone. You enjoy the sound of their voice more than others, their smell makes your heart pound. When your skin touches theirs, you feel like you’re tingling. You want to spend all your time with them and never leave their side.” Ymir’s brown eyes were clear and focused.

Historia nodded her head, brows mildly furrowed. “Oh.” She stared at her boots. Dust coated the dark brown leather, crusted into the cracks and lines. “I knew that.” Ymir snorted, so Historia glanced up at her again. “Is there really no one that you’re… attracted to?”

Ymir gave her a strange smile, and Historia sensed for the first time that Ymir was putting a wall between them. She got the odd sense that she’d said something wrong, but couldn’t figure out what. “No, I don’t like boys.” Oh, she’d said that already. “I like girls,” Ymir added.

Historia stared at her, waiting. Was there someone around them that she currently liked? Why was Ymir staring at her with such intensity, like she was expecting a certain response? Historia realized that she probably was, so she nodded her head in fake understanding, smiling. “Oh, cool! Is there any specific girl you like?”

Ymir’s stare narrowed. “Yeah,” she said. “But not everyone knows her. Possibly no one.”

Historia nodded again. “Well, I’d like to meet her then, if you’d like.”

Ymir’s smile was so strange. “Me too.”

Historia’s brows furrowed, but before she could say anything Ymir stood and straightened, effectively ending their conversation. She didn’t leave right away and instead held out her hand. Hesitantly, Historia took it and Ymir pulled her up onto her feet.

“Let’s have dinner,” Ymir told her, looking openly into her eyes. “And then shower.”

Historia nodded and their hands dropped away. She never noticed how Ymir’s fingers quivered, or how Ymir’s face darkened with a blush.

XxX

From then on Ymir seemed to always be where she was. They ate together, trained together and whenever they had free time, spent it together. Historia only really noticed the significance when people started to comment on it.

“Oh, so you’re friends with Ymir now?”

“What’s Ymir’s problem anyway?”

“Hey, did Ymir really kill that guy last week?”

She always met these questions with confusion and fake cheerfulness, until she eventually just accepted that Ymir was part of her day to day life. A big plus was that the boys stopped bothering her so much, and the girls stopped asking her to hang out. People saw Ymir and backed off, closed their mouths before asking a question. It made Historia … feel good. Less interaction, less need to fake her way through it or pretend she knew what was going on. Being around Ymir was like breathing in fresh air for the first time, and no matter the fact that they were together all the time, Ymir never demanded much of her.

“Stop smiling so much,” Ymir grumbled at her.

Historia looked at her, still smiling. “Why?”

Ymir chewed on her oatmeal. “Because it’s fake.” Historia’s stomach flipped in anxiety. “You look prettier when you’re not smiling like that.”

Historia spent the rest of their breakfast frowning down at her food, but it actually felt… refreshing. Of course, when people greeted her she smiled at them, but not as brightly nor as fake. Later that day she caught Ymir arguing with one of the boys and hurried over, worried.

“Like I said, she isn’t interested,” she heard Ymir growl. “So back the fuck off.”

“Oh, so you answer for her now, huh? What are you, her interpreter?”

“Just fuck off, asshole!”

Historia reached them just as the boy lashed out and smashed his fist against Ymir’s face. A spike of terror rocked up her spine, but Ymir retaliated quickly and punched him back. They started fist fighting and grabbing at each other, and Historia rushed to insert herself between them, not caring at all for her own safety. She got a few punches on her shoulders before they realized she was there and the boy quickly stepped away, blood leaking out of his nose.

“K-Krista!” he sputtered, eyes wide. “I… she… it’s not…”

For the first time in her life, she didn’t force herself to smile at someone. Historia turned to him with a fiery glare and made sure he could see the anger on her face. “Get lost!” she yelled at him, face darkening. He seemed just as shocked as her at her outburst, but he turned on his heel and rushed off.

“Heh, pissy fucker.” Historia whirled on Ymir then. Her brown eyes widened in surprise. “Krista?”

“What was that?” Historia yelled at her. She grabbed the front of Ymir’s shirt and pulled her closer, until they were in each other’s faces. Ymir had to lean down. “Why would you antagonize someone like that? He hit you! Look at your face, it’s swelling. Ymir, you’re such a mean dummy!”

Ymir had blood on her lip from a cut, and there was already a bruise forming on her jaw, but other than that she seemed fine. Historia’s scolding seemed to have the opposite effect, because she started to smirk and covered Historia’s hands with her own. They were warm and strong, and Historia swallowed.

“Do that,” Ymir told her, eyes shining.

Historia furrowed her brows. “Wh-what?”

“That.” Ymir grinned wider. “Do that more often, Krista. Say what you feel in the moment. Act on it. You yelling at that guy? At me? That was real. That was you. The real you.”

Historia didn’t want to dwell on what Ymir was saying. It made her stomach tighten into knots, made her heart feel like it was struggling to beat, like her blood had turned to sludge. She pulled away from Ymir abruptly, but her face was already red. Ymir started to laugh at her, a deep belly laugh that was true and real, and it only served to make Historia angrier.

That was the first time Historia lashed out and head-butted Ymir, and it would certainly not be the last.

XxX

Sasha was alone, lifting a bucket of water out of the well. “You’re really starting to annoy the shit out of me, you know,” Ymir told her.

Sasha glanced their way, confused. “Huh?

Historia glanced over her shoulders at Ymir, wondering what she was doing. “The stupid way you talk so politely to everyone. Why don’t you just talk like normal?”

Sasha’s cheeks flushed slightly, as if she was embarrassed. “Well, um… I guess…”

Ymir’s bored expression turned into a naughty smirk. “Oh wait, let me guess. You’re embarrassed by the way people sound from your village, right? Did I hit the bull’s-eye? Am I right?” Ymir sauntered forward and into Sasha’s personal space, smirking smugly.

Historia watched her. What was the point of this? Historia knew that Ymir wasn’t really trying to bully Sasha, she didn’t do that to people. So why do this? Why say these things?

“I’m surprised that an idiot like you even cares so much about something like this,” Ymir carried on, snickering. “You can’t do anything but hunt, and you’re afraid of what people think of you, to top it off.” Sasha looked down at her feet in clear shame. “I bet you don’t have a single good reason for wanting to become a soldier. Your parent’s probably—”

Historia could see that Sasha was getting visibly upset, and while she was somewhat curious about why Ymir was doing this, she knew she couldn’t just continue to watch silently. She took a breath. “Stop it, Ymir! Why are you being so—?

Ymir leaned down against her, knocking their heads together to silence her. “You gonna care what other people think and be someone you’re not for your whole life? Does that sound good to you?” Ymir’s voiced changed from amused to serious, almost upset. “What a load of shit. You’re fine as you are, Sasha. So goddamn talk how you talk. Use your own words, no one else’s.”

Sasha’s shoulders pulled back and her eyes widened. She looked like a scared, weary animal about to turn tail and run. But she smiled at them. “Th-thank you… very much…” Sasha said politely, voice soft. Clearly that ruffled Ymir’s feathers, because she shoved herself off of Historia’s head and bent forward.

“What?” she said loudly, mockingly.

“He he, I’m sorry,” Sasha hurried, rubbing the back of her neck, still talking so formally. “I’m not… um…”

Historia studied Sasha’s face carefully, and then she understood. Ymir was being harsh because… sometimes it was easier that way, to make someone understand the point of your words. Ymir was trying to help her, in the harsh, rude way that Ymir always did. Historia had known that Sasha spoke politely like this, but she’d never really cared enough to consider that she actually had a different way of speaking or that she was embarrassed by it. How had Ymir figured all that out? While Historia would have preferred to handle the situation differently, she could appreciate that Ymir definitely got her point across.

However, she was still being an ass.

“Stop it now!” Historia slammed her head into Ymir’s shoulders, ending her harassment of poor Sasha. “There’s nothing wrong with the way she talks!” she injected for effect, ever the sweet girl everyone saw. She shoved Ymir off of her and glared, and Ymir glared back but said nothing. “Sasha is who Sasha wants to be,” Historia told her. _And if she wants to be someone else, let her._ “Her words will always be her own, and I happen to like her.” _Because I know what it’s like._

Ymir walked away from her, looking bored again. “Hmph, have it your way. Whatever. Still, even if she changed the way she talks, it won’t change the fact that she’s annoying.” Ah, there was Ymir’s rude side back. Historia signed inwardly, aware of the fact that she was like Ymir’s mentor now. She strode forward and grabbed hold of Ymir’s arm, the muscles underneath her fingers stiffening.

“You know, not everyone is as insensitive as you.”

Ymir feigned extreme offence. “Excuse me? You little… you…” Historia lifted her brow in challenge, warning Ymir that if she finished that sentence, she’d regret it. Over the past few days Ymir had grown to realize that she could be dangerous when she wanted to, especially when Ymir did dumb shit all the time.

Before they had a chance to brawl, Sasha started to laugh. It sounded more genuine than Historia remembered hearing.

“Hey!” Ymir growled at her, eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

Historia giggled softly into her hand when Sasha’s face paled. “Sorry!”

Yeah, Ymir was a big meaning. But she didn’t always mean it the way it came out. Sasha couldn’t help but laugh again so Ymir wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hassled her, and Historia watched them.

Sometimes when it came to Ymir, you just had to hear the unspoken words. Ymir glanced up at her, grinning, and Historia felt it. That something in her chest.

XxX

Hands grabbed for her, twisting in her hair and yanking tight, making her whimper in pain no matter how hard she tried not to. Stones smacked into her face and arms and legs, opening fresh wounds and leaving purple-blue bruises that would eventually colour to yellow. Blood—always so much blood, leaking down her face, trickling from her lip or flowing from her nose. A fist connected with her jaw, snapping her head sideways.

_“You stupid, stupid girl!_ ” the voice snarled, always the same voice. “ _Learn to do what you’re told and stay out of my sight!”_

It stung. It hurt. Why did it always hurt? Was this normal? Did all little girls grow up with finger-like bruises on their arms and shoe prints on their legs, with mean words in their heads and a quiver on their lips? Was this what childhood was meant to be?

Or was Historia just fucked up?

She shot up in bed, crying out loudly before she realized what she was doing, before she could clamp her mouth shut and squeeze her eyes until the images of blood and pain melted away and her heart stopped thundering. The other girls were all asleep and no one seemed to have heard her, so Historia relaxed slightly and slumped down in her bunk.

_Why do I always dream of that?_ she wondered to herself. _Why can’t I just forget?_ She wanted to die. In that moment she felt it harshly, starkly. She thought of all the people that had died during the first titan invasion, and she felt jealous. They didn’t have to worry anymore. They had no nightmares, no dreams, no anxiety—nothing. Historia longed for the endless, peaceful stretch of nothing.

She clenched her hands into fists, digging her short blunt nails deep into her skin, barely feeling the pain. Her breathing was growing heavy, scraping in and out of her lungs. The anxiety was rushing up on her, threatening to break her, and she just wanted to let it.

“You okay, Krista?”

The voice startled her, but she didn’t move a muscle. Ymir was beside her bunk and she’d spoken softly, carefully. So someone had heard, huh? Historia felt washed with embarrassment and shame. She tried to answer, but her throat was closed up and all that came out was a soft croak. For some reason, Ymir immediately climbed atop her bunk and settled in next to her. Historia cleared her throat and found her voice.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she hissed.

“Just shut up and turn around.”

Historia stared up into the darkness, then obeyed and turned onto her right side. Ymir copied her. The bunk was small, but Ymir didn’t touch her. Historia could feel her heat regardless, and instead of making her anxious, it helped her relax. Ymir didn’t say a thing afterwards, didn’t try to ask her why she’d made that noise, why she was lying in bed hyperventilating. She simply went to sleep.

Historia caught herself smiling. Sometimes with Ymir it was complicated, but sometimes it was simple. Historia closed her eyes and for the first time in a long time, fell into a silent, dark sleep.

When she woke in the morning she overslept—much to her surprise—and Ymir was gone. She only found Ymir in the mess hall throwing pieces of her bread at Sasha, who was eagerly snatching them up with her teeth like the fat pigeons Historia often watched when she was bored. Sasha greeted her with a big grin and Ymir gave her a quirked brow, but she didn’t say anything at all. Despite her deep sleep, she felt exhausted and drained. Ymir must have sensed it.

Training felt extra difficult for her. She found it slightly more painful to take that one last step, lift that last weight, run that last lap. Ymir kept close to her side, almost like she was afraid of Historia collapsing. When training was over Historia almost wept in joy, but kept her emotions to herself and pretended to be fine as they all hurried to the showers, chatting and giggling. The girls mostly left her alone, thanks to Ymir who walked close to her side. Ymir didn’t talk much, so they spent a lot of time in silence.

After showering they went to the mess hall for dinner. There was a nervous energy in the air, louder chatter than usual. Historia didn’t really care what they were all excited about, she just wanted to eat and then retire to her bunk. Ymir kept giving her pointed looks, too. They sat down and started to eat. Sasha wasn’t with them this time, she was sitting with Mikasa and Eren and by the looks of it, being picked on. For a moment Historia wished she could be normal like that, but then the feeling passed.

“Hey, everyone!” All eyes turned towards the door, where Reiner stood with two barrels on his shoulders. He had a wide grin on his face. His eyes swept over the cramped room, finally coming to rest on Historia. She wasn’t certain why, but a cold shiver ran through her body at the way he stared at her. It was an unpleasant feeling, but she smiled at him anyway. “We stole booze!”

Everyone went silent. Reiner dropped the barrels onto the ground, grunting at the effort, and Berthold stepped up to his side. As usual, he was sweating way too much. They whispered something to each other, but Historia couldn’t hear. The mess hall erupted in excited chatter and cheers. Jean immediately jumped up and challenged Eren to a drinking contents, who then stood up and yelled, “ _huuuuh?”_

Historia watched the commotion with lidded eyes. They were all so boring. Why was alcohol so exciting for them? Historia remembered how her mother had smelt of alcohol, the way her breath stank of it, seeping into her skin. That was one thing she was not naïve about. Many nights her mother would stumble into the home, barely able to stand, and take a man up to her room. Historia would hear them, never understanding what they were doing besides the fact that it was _bad_ and she never wanted to do it. In the morning her mother would get sick, but she would continue to drink. Involuntarily, Historia’s nose wrinkled.

Ymir dropped down beside her, startling her. She hadn’t even noticed Ymir leave.

“Here,” Ymir said, pushing a big mug towards her. The dark red liquid sloshed dangerously inside. “Drink.”

Historia pulled her face in disgust. “No way. I don’t like wine.”

Ymir lifted a brow. “So? No one drinks this stuff because it tastes good. It’s about how it makes you feel.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Drink. Come on.”

Historia rubbed a hand over her face. “Ymir, I don’t—”

Ymir gave her this strange look—eyes wide, brows drawn together and lips pouted. It was the weirdest look she had ever seen on Ymir’s face, and yet it compelled something inside of her that she didn’t understand. She wanted to say no again, but Ymir’s face wouldn’t let her. Instead she slumped her shoulders and sighed. “Fine,” she said. Ymir’s lips split in a grin. “But just one sip.”

She lifted the mug to her lips, dreading the heavy taste of alcohol before it even hit her tongue. When it did she screwed her eyes shut, but that was her mistake. Ymir suddenly grabbed the back of her head and tilted the mug back, forcing more into her mouth.

“Chug, Krista!” Ymir shouted, laughing. “Swallow or you’ll choke!”

_Ymir… you…_ Historia desperately swallowed until she managed to pull away, wine spilling all over them. Ymir was laughing hysterically and Historia’s tummy burnt. She glared at Ymir with fire.

“You are so mean,” she told her in anger.

Ymir stuck her tongue out. “You need to relax sometimes, squirt.”

“Don’t call me squirt!”

Ymir merely snorted and downed the rest of Historia’s drink. Her own was already finished. Historia must have only had a few mouthfuls, but she could already feel her brain fogging over. A warm hand covered her own on the bench between them, and Historia lifted her eyes to meet golden brown.

“Feelin’ good?” Ymir asked her. Despite her darkened cheeks, she didn’t seem affected at all. Her eyes were wide and filled with amusement. It was a good look on her, different to the usual look of distaste or boredom.

Historia licked her lips, tongue feeling thick. Her heart was pumping hard in her chest. It felt strange where their hands touched—warm, almost unbearably so. Historia furrowed her brows, but a giggle bubbled up out of her. Ymir’s smile turned triumphant.

“I guess,” she finally answered. Ymir laughed and turned around to ask for another mug, but she didn’t remove her hand. Historia stared at it, counting the few freckles along Ymir’s long fingers. She didn’t mind. It felt good. Better than anything ever had, actually.

It was fine, because Ymir didn’t remove her hand once, not until they all had to escape to their bunks before Shadis found them drunk.

 

 

 


End file.
